When Everything Falls Apart
by sbk2304
Summary: When everything falls apart, who can you rely on to hold yourself together? Miami Zombie Attack AU Brittana.
1. Chapter 1

**AN - I've wanted to write a fic like this for a long time, so I'm going to attempt to actually plan it properly and keep it going! I based the beginning on the Miami incident. Hope you like it, and please review! Ideas are welcome! -sbk2304 (tumblr: flyingsquirrelsforever****)**

* * *

**When everything falls apart, who can you rely on to hold yourself together? AU Brittana.**

It was during May of the year 2012 when it happened. Scientists had been investigating various chemicals in a research lab in Miami, trying to find a cure for cancer and other diseases, and nobody noticed when an unknown airborne virus escaped. Seemingly harmless, it moved silently through the population like a fog, creeping into homes and workplaces leaving them none the wiser, infecting person by person. Women, men, children, no human life escaped its clutches. Days passed and there was no change, until fevers began affecting the population. People flocked in groups to their doctors complaining of breathing troubles and coughing, unknowingly passing it on in the process, and were sent away confident in the firm reassurance that it was just a new type of flu sweeping across the land. The citizens of Miami could breathe again and continue with their busy lives. That is until the first attack occurred, apparently out of nowhere.

An incident was brought to the attention of the media in which a previously well mannered man, a scientist of the research lab, attacked another and proceeded to eat his flesh in a local park. The man was unresponsive to the attempts taken to stop his attack and so was shot dead. His victim was rushed to hospital, and it wasn't long before rumours spread. Zombies, witchcraft and other theories revolving around the supernatural were the main topics spoken about by communities, sparking a panic. Authorities brushed off their worries, saying it was the result of drugs, whilst desperately testing the chemicals used in the research centre in secret. The victim died, supposedly of blood loss and infection, and within a few days most people forgot about the attack. Until said victim returned to life and viciously attacked a nurse.

By this time the rest of Miami was alerted, most of the hospital staff and patients had been attacked, and those first infected were roaming the streets, hungry for human flesh.

* * *

In a small town in Ohio, a blonde girl jumped as she was woken roughly from her sleep.

"Wake up honey, we have to go." Her mother leaned over her, her face pinched with worry. "A virus is spreading, we need to leave."

Before the girl had time to react, her mother left the room, shouting for her sister to hurry.

She slipped out of bed, confused but obeying her mother's orders. The light of the morning sun was streaming through the gap in her curtains. Pulling them open, she was shocked to see the streets milling with people. She looked at the clock. It was only 5.30. She dressed hurriedly, and with shaking hands she packed a bag and grabbed her phone. She turned to leave, when a small noise caught her attention.

She gasped and dropped to her knees, peering under the bed before hauling out a fat cat and stuffing him under her jumper. She cradled him close and ran down the stairs to join her family.

Her father hugged her and her sister, quickly explaining to them about the virus. He opened the door and immediately the sound of screams and cries reached their ears.

"What's happening?" The blonde cried, running outside.

Her mother grabbed her arm. "Get in the car, quickly."

She stared as the elderly man dropped dead on the road in front of her, shaking and foaming at the mouth. Her mother stopped also and watched in horror as he rose and began dragging himself towards the retreating group of people.

"Brittany!"

Brittany wheeled at the sound and caught sight of a dark haired girl running towards her holding a baseball bat. She flung herself into her arms, careful of the bundle in her jumper.

"What's going on Santana?" She mumbled into the other girl's hair, tears running down her face in shock.

"Brittany we need to go," Mr Pierce stepped forwards firmly, eyeing the approaching man warily.

Brittany turned to face him, wide eyed. "I'm not leaving without Santana!" Her hand gripped Santana's tightly, and was shocked when Santana detached herself from her gently.

"Britt, you need to go." She stared into the blue eyes filled with tears.

Brittany's face dropped. "What? No! I'm not leaving you!"

Santana grabbed her face in both hands. "I need to find my family." She said, tears falling down her cheeks. "I need you to be safe."

"But-"

"Brittany, I need you to be safe." Santana repeated. "I promise you, I will find you again." Her eyes stared into Brittany's.

"Brittany we need to go!" Her mother called out of the car.

Brittany nodded slowly, keeping her gaze on her girlfriend. "You promise."

"I promise," Santana kissed her softly. "I love you Brittany."

"I love you too Santana." She pulled away and headed towards the car. The cat in her jumper clawed at her viciously and dropped out, disappearing into the darkness. "Lord Tubbington!" She cried, running in the direction he had gone.

Santana caught her around the waist and hugged her tightly, pushing her firmly into the car.

"I'll get him," she promised. "I'll see you soon." She slipped something into the girl's hand, shut the door and stepped back, forcing a smile.

She stood alone as the car disappeared down the road, tears falling from her eyes.

* * *

Within days after Brittany had left Lima, the virus had been isolated and died, leaving a mass of undead roaming the continent, devouring humans and infecting others through a single bite from their sharp teeth.

The remaining people were forced to learn survival skills, most acquiring a gun, bat or similar weapon in which to defend themselves against the threat previously only existing in horror films. They had to fight their moral instincts in order to kill the things so like themselves. The zombies, referred to by the survivors as the undead, were identical to the living, minus the continuous groaning and the unnerving look in their cold eyes, making it difficult to pick them off at a distance.

Most went crazy in the end, despairing at the isolation they found themselves in from others and the rest of the world, causing them to turn on each other. Some committed suicide, preferring to end their own lives rather than allow themselves to be turned into the undead. One woman in Virginia went on a rampage, leaving her companions and killing the undead in hundreds without fear for her own safety, before shooting herself in the temple. It was later found that she had been confronted by the walking corpse of her five year old son and teenage daughter, both covered in blood and eating the body of their lifeless eight year old brother as he lay in the street clutching a teddy.

After hearing the latest story, Brittany stood up and returned to her bed in the corner of the bunker, reaching up to the necklace Santana had given her when she left and squeezing the heart in her hand. It had been over a year since she had seen Santana, and the hope of ever finding her again was slowly dying. Tears fell onto her pillow as she remembered the fear in her eyes as she had forced her into the car. She clutched her phone in the other hand. It had died long ago, but she kept hold of it in the hope that if they ever reached normality she could try to contact her girlfriend.

She shifted over in the bunk as a little girl snuggled into her side. Her little sister Ellie reached up to touch her face gently.

"Why are you crying Brittany?" She asked innocently.

"I just miss some people, I'm okay El, get some sleep," Brittany blinked furiously and smiled down at the six year old. With her blue eyes and blonde hair she was the spitting image of her older sister.

"When are Mommy and Daddy coming back?" She asked.

Brittany felt a lump rise in her throat. Soon after leaving Lima, they had stopped to gather some supplies from an abandoned store, and Brittany had watched in horror as a mass of the undead had swarmed out, attacking their parents instantly.

Her father had only time to meet her eyes and yell at her to go before he was bitten. They'd only just got out of there alive.

"They won't be coming back Ellie, remember? It's just me and you now." She brushed the hair out of the little girl's face. She had decided long ago to be truthful to her, figuring that in a world where death could happen at any second there was no point in lying.

"What about Santana?" At her quiet question Brittany's tears resurfaced and streamed down her cheeks.

"I...I don't know about Santana," she whispered. "But she'll be fighting to get to us again, don't worry."

* * *

Crack!

The sound of wood hitting bone caused a satisfied smirk to cross her face as the last one hit the ground with a thud. Santana wiped her arm across her face, grimacing at the blood smeared on her forehead.

She threw her bag on her back and carefully lifted up a small holdall, and rejoined the stream, sighing contently as the water soothed her bruised skin. She had been walking for a month now, staying parallel to the stream as much as possible in order to have access to clean water. Progress had been slow, but she had been laying low to avoid attacks, and she had broken a rib before leaving, meaning she could not travel far without rest.

The group of the undead had taken her by surprise, but she had reacted quickly. She hadn't even had to resort to the gun slung across her shoulder.

She looked upstream and was relieved to see a cluster of trees on the bank. Reaching them she slowly climbed one, gasping in pain. She finally reached a spot that she felt safe in, and allowed herself to relax.

She set the holdall on a sturdy branch, and pulled the battered map out of the backpack, peering at the faded line in the morning light. A piece of paper slid off of the map, and Santana snatched for it blindly, bringing it close to her chest. She lifted it up and pressed a kiss to the crumpled photo. Brittany's face smiled up at her, and she traced her face softly before tucking it safely back in her bag. Tears sprang to her eyes as memories of the past year resurfaced.

After Brittany had left, she had battled her way through the destroyed town, searching for her family. She had woken up that morning to find the house empty, and after turning on the television and seeing the warning to evacuate, she had thought of nothing else but Brittany.

After she had left, she crept through the darkness, clutching her bat and whispering Lord Tubbington's name. She had found him growling under a bush minutes later, and dragged him out yowling. She had gone into her girlfriend's abandoned house using the key under the flower pot, and grabbed a bag to keep him in, before setting off towards her own house. Several hours later she had collapsed in tears after seeing a written message from her parents.

_Mija,_

_If you are reading this then it is most likely we are no longer living, but if you are reading this then it means you are alive and hopefully well. The key to the basement is in the top drawer of the kitchen, down there you will find supplies and weapons; we have taken a few but left you most. _

_We love you Santana._

_Mom & Dad_

Blood trails led to the backdoor, where the bodies of her parents lay, both with bullets in their skulls. It was the hardest thing Santana had ever done, killing her parents, but she knew they would have preferred it to being undead. She had locked herself in the basement for weeks, terrified of leaving the home she had always known. To leave would be to confirm the knowledge that she was alone. She had nobody. She had scouted the town, but after being forced to kill what was previously Mr Schuester, she had given up in the hope of finding survivors in Lima.

Weeks turned into months and she packed up her supplies, stuffed Lord T into a bag, and set off. She stumbled blindly for weeks, before realising she had no idea where she was going. After a particularly close encounter with the undead she forced herself to be more aware, and before she knew it she found herself in Chicago. There she had discovered a few survivors, who had informed her that it had been eleven months since the outbreak. Eleven months without Brittany.

It was then that she first heard the daily radio broadcast, which her new companions informed her was done from New York City, in which a few hundred people lived in a compound. It was then that she had made the decision to journey to New York in hope of either finding her girlfriend or sending a message out on the radio.

So here she was, a month into her journey and settling down to sleep in a tree. By her calculations she was only a day away from her destination, considering how many detours she would have to take to avoid the undead. She had collected a map and a portable radio from her companions back in Chicago, and listened faithfully every day in hope of hearing news of the Pierces.

She reached over and unzipped the holdall slightly. Lord Tubbington poked his head out and she scratched it gently. He had slimmed down greatly, but was in remarkably good health considering he had spent the best part of a year being hauled along in a bag. He had settled down quickly enough, and soon learned not to stray far when she did let him out. He was more of a dog than a cat now, the way he came running whenever Santana hissed his name. It would have been easier for her to dump him long ago, but she made a promise to Brittany. She never broke her promises.

* * *

A few hours later, Santana awoke, stiff and hungry. The sun was now high in the sky, and looking into the distance at the towering buildings of New York, she reckoned she could be there by nightfall. She searched the surrounding area for any threat, and when she was satisfied she was alone she slid down from the tree.

Swiftly she cleaned Lord Tubbington's bag in the stream, and ate a cereal bar as she waited for it to dry.

She glanced around, whistling softly, and a minute later the cat emerged from under a bush. He dropped the remains of a mouse at her feet. She made a disgusted face, but patted him on the head anyway.

"Good boy." Her voice was croaky from lack of use. She always praised him for feeding himself, for in the current situation she barely had enough food for herself, let alone for a previously obese cat. He hopped obediently in the now clean bag, and they set off for the skyscrapers on the horizon.

* * *

Brittany reached the bunker door set into the concrete of the formerly busy New York street, and knocked 6 times. There was shuffling and a click as it was unlocked, and she hauled the door open to see her little sister smiling back at her. It was hard for Brittany to leave her all day, but she had no choice but to work in order to receive some food from the people who lived on this side of the city. She had heard that those on the other side of the city were nicer and that there were better living standards, but she simply couldn't risk taking Ellie across that distance unprotected.

She climbed down the steps and refastened the door, glancing around their tiny home. A lamp sat in the middle, giving out a small glow that gave just enough light, and five bunks were set in the stone wall. They had been lucky to find this place upon reaching New York when their car broke down, otherwise the likelihood of them surviving would have been minimal.

She shook herself out of her stupor, hugging her sister and handing her the small loaf of bread. The little girl's eyes widened.

"Can we have it all Britty?" She asked in excitement, using the nickname their father had called her before everything happened.

"We can have half," Brittany said, ruffling her hair. "We should save some for breakfast, otherwise you'll go hungry!" She tickled her tummy, trying to ignore how she could feel her little sister's ribs beneath the rags they both wore.

Ellie nodded solemnly and bounded over to the old table Brittany had found one day whilst scavenging. She set down the bread and pressed the worn down button on the old radio Brittany had managed to steal from her workplace. If you could call it a workplace.

"It says 8.49, how long left?" The girl asked her older sister.

"Eleven minutes El, leave it on while we wait so we don't miss it."

Brittany had tried hard to teach her little sister basic things like time and counting, but it was difficult to find time when most of her day was spent either luring the undead away from their little haven or working to earn food.

Every day at 9 there was a short radio transmission from those on the other side of the city who had found access to an old broadcasting studio. Every day they gave directions to the apparent place of safety, but Brittany was unable to leave, fearing for her little sister's life. She could barely protect herself, let alone the fragile skin and bones of her sister.

She cut the bread, giving Ellie the bigger half, and turned up the volume expectantly.

Silence fell for a few moments, before it crackled into life, making them both jump.

_Hello fellow survivors,_

_Today is the 14__th__ June 2013. _

_Number of undead killed today is 23. It is slowly decreasing day by day, so we can only assume that we are slowly winning! Today we have had no more additions to our tiny population over here, but we are ever hopeful that eventually all survivors can make their way to us._

Brittany stared at the wall as she listened to the usual directions given, and her heart sank. No more additions to the population meant no Santana. Every time they had a new survivor, the person had given a short introduction and called out for their family members, and Brittany was praying for the day when she would finally hear Santana's voice. She wouldn't be dead. She couldn't. Impossible.

She focused her attention back on the radio.

_So that is it for today, we'll be back tomorrow and until then, keep fighting! _

The voice died and the sound of the national anthem blared softly from the small black box.

Ellie clapped her hands at the encouraging message, and looked at her older sister.

"Britty?"

Brittany looked at her with glassy eyes, and then gave her a watery smile as she stood up.

"Come on then, bedtime." She picked her up carefully and laid her down in her bed. She tucked the old sheet around her, and prepared to tell her the same story she had spoken since their parents had been killed. At first it had been a mechanism of coping, of being able to visualize a world where the undead did not exist, but now was she simply enchanted by the imagination of her mother, who until she died had told this story every night to the sisters.

She opened her mouth to begin, and was startled by the crackling of the radio. Ellie sat up in her bed. "What's going on?"

Brittany shushed her and moved over to the table to listen.

_Sorry for the interruption of the anthem, but we have just received reports of a survivor headed this way. Our snipers have been watching, and they appear to be alive! We shall update more when they get here, so stay tuned._

The voice went silent, and Brittany turned to Ellie with wide eyes, trying desperately to squash the hope rising inside her for fear of jeopardising fate.

"Let's get you asleep," She tried to settle her little sister, but she shook her head vehemently.

"No! I want to listen!"

Brittany sighed. "Okay, fine, but after that you sleep."

They sat side by side on the bed, gripping each other's hand for comfort. Brittany crossed the fingers on her free hand, and subtly crossed her legs and toes. It was a thing she had done since she was little, and she figured it couldn't hurt.

After long minutes of silence, the radio came back to life once more.

_Hello, as promised here I am with an update. _The broadcaster's excited voice was heard. _She's here! Do you have a message for our fellow survivors?_

Brittany listened with bated breath, clutching the heart hanging from her neck.

_Yes, my name is Santana Lopez. I'm looking for Brittany, Brittany Pierce. Is she here? At the compound?_ Her voice sounded weary and tired, but was full of hope.

Ellie gasped and began chattering animatedly, but Brittany clamped her hand over her mouth. "Shhh!"

The broadcaster's voice returned. _No, I don't believe we have a Brittany. Would you like to give her a message if she's listening?_

_Yes. Brittany, if you are out there, I won't stop looking. I will search every day for you, and at nightfall I shall be here at the compound. I'm hoping you can make your way here, but if not, I will find you. I promise._ Her voice cracked and went silent.

Brittany stared at the radio, shocked. Ellie watched her impassive face uncertainly.

Suddenly Brittany leapt off the bed and swung the little girl round in her arms.

"She's alive! Santana's alive!"

Ellie laughed hysterically as she was set down, watching her older sister dance around the tiny bunker.

Brittany paused in her actions and skipped back over to the bed.

"Let's sleep, El! The quicker we sleep, the quicker we can find her!" A massive grin split across her face, and she dropped a kiss on her sibling's forehead.

Ellie lay down obediently and closed her eyes.

Brittany leapt onto the battered old mattress that served as her bed, and tucked the oversized jumper around herself. She couldn't stop smiling.

"Tomorrow," she whispered.

Tomorrow she would find Santana.

* * *

**So there's the first chapter, I hope you liked it! Please review!**

******Thank you very much to my beta - Totally Unicorn. Go read her amazing Faberry story - 'Where Dreams Are Made'!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's the next chapter! I had to do some research about New York for this story, so I apologise for any mistakes (I live in England). I hope you like it! Please review, it means a lot.**

**Thank you to Totally Unicorn, BumbaMumbaJimJams (awesome name by the way) and TgaGirl for your reviews! :)**

* * *

The sun was appearing over the horizon as Santana buttoned up her ragged coat and peered out the barred door. She glanced back at her sleeping area. Lord Tubbington was snuggled beneath her blankets, and she made sure to close the door firmly before leaving the tiny cell. She walked along the narrow halls silently, nodding stiffly to the inhabitants of other cells. It wasn't until she reached the fresh air that she allowed herself to breathe and fully relax.

She looked around at the vast space. The 'compound' referred to by the survivors was none other than Rikers Island, which had served as the main jail of New York City before the outbreak. With only one point of access from the mainland, it was the perfect haven from the undead, and from what Santana had been told, now free from threat. A wall had been built around the island's perimeter in case those in charge were wrong in their assumption that the zombies couldn't swim, and a guard manned the bridge at all times. It had taken a long time for Santana to reach the compound, but by the looks of things it had been worth it.

At the moment she was staying in what used to be cells along with the other newcomers until they were assigned a place to live. Many of the buildings were being transformed into homes, and Santana had been informed of the plans to create a small town until they managed to make contact with the rest of the world.

For now, however, her priority was to find Brittany. She crossed the small yard, and opened the rusty gate. A middle aged woman rushed out of a door to her left wearing an apron, and pressed a small bag into her hands.

"Good luck, Santana" she said hesitantly, offering her a small smile before turning to go back inside.

Santana was bewildered. "Wait! How did you know I was going? How do you know my name?"

The woman paused. "We are all family here. We listen to the broadcasts just like everyone else, and make it our business to know what is going on." She continued back into the building.

"Thank you," Santana called after her.

The woman nodded without turning back. "Be safe." The door slammed behind her.

Santana opened the bag cautiously. In it was a small package of food complete with a knife and first aid kit. She smiled at the generosity, and tucked it away in her backpack.

When she reached the main gate, she coughed quietly to get the guard's attention, and he turned to look at her. He had a closely shaven mohawk on his head, and tears sprang to her eyes as she remembered seeing her old friend's broken body lay mauled on the side of the road during one of her expeditions around town searching for survivors. Despite her bad history with Puck, she did love him, as a friend of course, and it hurt her more than anything that he wasn't able to live out his dreams.

She suddenly realised the guard was still staring at her, and she forced a smile.

"Um, my name is Santana Lopez. I got here yesterday?"  
He peered at her through his rounded glasses, and his face broke into a grin as he recognised her face. "You're the one who walked from Chicago."

She nodded. "Is it okay for me to leave?" She figured she'd try politeness first. Any resistance and she would go all Lima Heights. Her old saying hit her like a tonne of bricks, reminding her of everything she had lost, and she mentally cursed her stupidity. _Get a grip, Santana._

His eyes narrowed as he took in her determined expression, and he sighed. "Be back by nightfall. When it gets dark we shoot at anything that moves."

She gulped. "Okay."

He stood up from his chair and reached down to unlock the tall gates, hauling one open for her.

She squeezed through the gap and squinted to make out the buildings in the distance.

The gate shut with a bang behind her and she jumped, scowling at the guard. He laughed at her, and she flicked her middle finger up before turning on her heel and beginning to make her way across the long bridge. When she had made the journey the night before it had been nearing dusk and she hadn't paid much attention to the scenery, but now she simply gaped at the glistening stretch of water either side of the walkway.

She dragged her attention away from the sea and focused on making her way across to the mainland, clutching her faded map in her hands. She had to find Brittany.

* * *

Brittany gasped in horror as she watched the zombie advance on Santana. What was happening? Why couldn't she move? A weight was pressing down on her chest, restricting her breathing and causing her to panic.

"Santana!" She screamed. "Somebody help!"

Santana just turned and looked at her with sad eyes as Brittany screamed and thrashed.

"Brittany!"

She turned and looked for the source of the sound, but all she could see was the zombie getting closer to Santana.

"Brittany!" It was Ellie's voice.

"Ellie? Where are you? Help!" Brittany shouted, tears streaming down her face.

"Brittany!"

Something cold hit Brittany's face, causing her eyes to fly open in panic. Ellie was sitting on her chest, clutching a cup in her hands, and her eyes were wide.

"What? Where's Santana?" Brittany mumbled. "Why am I all wet?"

Ellie stared at her, concerned. "You were screaming and you wouldn't wake up, so I tipped my water over you."

Brittany tilted her head in confusion, her heart still beating fast. "It was a dream? Santana's not going to get killed?"

Ellie frowned at her big sister, annoyed at her simplicity. "Santana's coming for us!" She jumped excitedly on her stomach.

Brittany grimaced, pushing her off as she struggled to breathe. A grin lit up her face as she remembered the radio message the night before. "You're right!"

Ellie rolled her eyes, and Brittany laughed at the expression so similar to Santana's. Before the outbreak the two had been inseparable, and Brittany had sometimes found herself getting jealous of the closeness of the relationship. Now, however, she would give anything for life to go back to normal.

She climbed out of bed, stretching.

Ellie bounced beside her, chattering. "I made you breakfast Britty!" She handed her a torn off piece of bread, and a glass of water. "I gave you most of it!"

Brittany smiled down at her, touched by her kindness. "How about we share it? I'm not really all that hungry," she lied, handing her little sister half of it back.

Ellie's face lit up in a grin as she sunk her teeth into it like a rabid animal. Brittany's heart clenched. She hoped they would find Santana soon. She would know how to get more food. Ellie couldn't go on like this much longer.

Shortly after arriving in the city, Brittany had been ambushed by a small group of people when on her way to find food. They had clearly gone slightly insane, and had resorted to violence, threatening to kill her unless she did their bidding. So for nearly a year now she had been out scouting the streets in search for whatever they required, in return for measly leftovers from their lair. They had found a secure place in an old factory stocked with a practically endless supply of tins and other foods, but still they refused to give her more than a few mere scraps.

She changed her clothes quickly, swapping them for some slightly small jeans and dark tank top as she thought through her options. She had to find Santana, and then maybe they would have a chance to get out of here, but what to do about Ellie? What about work? Brittany was confident that her 'employers', if you could call them that, did not know her whereabouts, but she was certain they would come looking. She made up her mind quickly and turned to her little sister.

"Ellie, I'm going to go to work, but then I'm going to try and find Santana. I want you to stay here okay?"

"No!" Ellie's eyes scrunched up and the corners of her mouth turned down. "I want to help!"

Brittany took a deep breath. "Ellie, I need you to stay here," she told her sternly. "I will bring Santana back here, but you need to rest, we'll need your help getting to the safe place okay?"

Ellie bit her lip, thinking it over. "Okay." Her face remained stony and she went to sit on her bed, hugging a purple stuffed animal to her chest.

Brittany gulped. Her little sister only ever held the toy when she was upset. She squashed the guilt rising inside her and picked up her bag. "I'll see you soon."

She looked through the tiny peephole, and once she was satisfied that there was no movement, pushed open the hatch. She climbed out, squinting in the sunlight.

"Lock the door behind me," she whispered down into the bunker, before lowering it shut and setting off through the streets of Brooklyn.

* * *

Santana dropped down behind the torched remains of a car, her heart beating wildly. Sounds of groaning reached her ears, and she shook with terror. Killing the undead was second nature to her now, but that didn't stop the fear running through her veins.

"You can do this," she whispered to herself, before standing up defiantly, bat in one hand and gun in the other. She would only use the gun when it was absolutely necessary, not wanting to draw more unwanted attention.

She watched the figure shuffle around aimlessly, and crept out from behind the car. It froze, catching her scent, and turned to face her. Its eyes were dead and black, boring into hers as it curled back its lip to reveal crooked yellow teeth. She gripped the bat tightly.

Her heart was beating louder and louder, and there was a moment of silence before it flew at her, snarling. Swiftly, she leapt aside, swinging the bat furiously. She cringed as the wood scraped over its back, tearing skin. She dropped to the ground, rolling as it wheeled to continue its attack.

She let out a whimper as she landed on broken glass, and cried out in terror as it grabbed her arm, preparing to sink its teeth into her flesh.

"No!" She screamed. Angling the gun blindly, she pressed the trigger with shaking fingers.

Bang! The creature dropped on her chest like a dead weight, and she shrieked, squeezing out from underneath it and jumping to her feet, frantically inspecting her arm.

To her relief there were no bite marks, and she quickly brushed herself down before running in case of company.

She had run a few blocks before she forced herself to slow down. It had been incredibly stupid of her to run like that without checking for the undead, but that last encounter had shocked her.

She had covered a vast area of the city, yet this was the first attack she had that had left her unsettled. Some of the undead seemed scarily intelligent, and it was hard to have the courage to go after them knowing that with just one bite she would turn into one. She was determined to find Brittany though, and no amount of zombies would stop her. She had a feeling Brittany would be in New York, as she had once told Santana that it was the only other place apart from Lima that she had felt like home in. If she was wrong in her assumptions then Santana was prepared to search for the rest of her life if she had to until she found her, dead or alive.

_Stop that._ She told herself firmly. _Of course she's alive._

Of course she is. Brittany's smart. Maybe not so much with calculations and things, but when it came to the important stuff, her girlfriend was a genius.

She saw a small stretch of grass in the distance and hurried over to it, eager to find some sort of landmark that would verify her suspicions about her current whereabouts. She peered at the rusty, broken sign hanging on a gate.

_Calvary Cemetery._

She glanced down. According to her map, behind it lay a creek, and she could either cross it to the left or the right. A bang up ahead caused her to drop to the floor.

She peeked through the slats in the wooden fence. To the right of the cemetery she could just make out faint shapes milling around. Were they survivors or? Her eyes lit up at the thought of other survivors, and she inched along the fence until she could get a closer look.

Her heart sank, watching one of them tear an arm off another. She could make out three of them crouched on the ground.

_What are they doing?_ Santana thought to herself. _It's a cemete- _She stopped her thought dead in its tracks and shuddered. A cemetery.

"Eww, gross," she whispered to herself. "They're eating _dead_ _people_?"  
Bile rose in her throat and she had to turn away. Every fibre of her being was telling her to go left and avoid them, but she couldn't ignore the thought of one of them finding Britt. If she killed them, she'd be saving lives.

_Okay Santana. Let's show them how it's done. _She nodded to herself. _Holy crap I'm talking to myself. Get a grip! _She rolled her eyes at her inner monologue and aimed her gun, no longer afraid of drawing attention. Her finger moved closer to the trigger, and there was a bang as one of the creature's head exploded.

"Awesome," she whispered gleefully, targeting another. Before long all three were laying side by side, and she checked her surroundings before darting past them and through the graveyard.

* * *

Brittany stood still, listening intently. She had heard something in the distance, she was sure of it. It sounded like a gunshot. She shook her head as if to hear better, and continued along the street. She had made her usual visit to the gang that morning, biting her tongue so as not to retaliate to their foul, crude language, but she had no intention of returning. She had lied to them, suggesting that it would take a matter of days to retrieve their latest demand, and so they had given her a little food to keep her going. She would search until the sun went down, and then return to Ellie, and carry on until she found Santana. She wouldn't give up.

She had been travelling for a few hours now, leaving a subtle trail with a piece of chalk she had collected for Ellie to draw with during the past year. Progress had been agonisingly slow, as she had yet to gain a map and so had to rely on traffic signs and what she could remember of the radio broadcasts. She reached the edge of what was previously a busy highway, and crouched by the barrier to catch her breath, glancing for cars out of habit. Vehicles sat discarded on the road, and she wished she had paid more attention when Santana attempted to teach her how to start a car without a key.

Never mind that, it's a bit late to be brooding on the past. If the signs were correct, Brooklyn Navy Yard should be located just beyond the highway, and then she would be another place of interest closer to the compound. She counted to three and shot out from her resting place and across the highway. She vaulted over the fence on the other side, and her eyes widened in horror as she took in the steep bank.

"Crap!" She managed to squeak out before she was rolling down the small hill. She tucked her arms across her chest, afraid of catching herself and breaking something. The blonde finally came to a halt, and clambered to her feet. As far as she could make out, she was mostly unharmed, but she had lost her bag during her descent. She looked around frantically, spotting it a few metres above, just out of reach.

"Damn." She carefully took hold of a tuft of grass for balance, and began to climb up slowly. After several failed attempts, Brittany succeeded in retrieving the bag, and returned to the ground below. She reached inside it, and pulled out the small branch and knife, figuring it would be sensible to have them on hand.

She skirted round the edges of Brooklyn Navy Yard, keeping watch for undesired company. Something was off; she hadn't seen a single zombie all day. She made sure to stay close to the fence, remembering the close encounter she had had months before when she had gone too close to an abandoned building. Masses of the undead had swarmed out, and she had barely been able to outrun them. She shuddered, thinking of Ellie's fate if something ever happened to her.

Thankfully, Ellie was safe and sound back in the bunker, out of reach of anything dangerous.

* * *

A small distance away, a door was pushed open slowly and a small figure clambered out of a hole in the street. They let the slab fall back with a bang and began creeping along the road. A tiny fist clutched a shard of rock tightly and the other held a purple stuffed dog.

Ellie's face held a determined expression. Her long blonde hair was tied back in uneven pigtails with hair sticking out everywhere, and she wore a jumper that reached her knees. It was her sister's, and she had to keep rolling up the sleeves, but it comforted her. Her eyes were narrowed, still angry at Brittany for not letting her help. She'd show her. She'd find Santana herself.

She reached the next block and paused, insecurities setting in. The buildings were huge and daunting. She had never been out here before. The only places she'd been to in the past year were all within a safe distance of the bunker, and always with Brittany's protective hand in hers.

_Grow up Ellie. It's time to go all Lima Heights on these zombies! _She giggled, remembering when her big sister's girlfriend would teach her insults, and then when Brittany would scold them both.

Brittany was wrong. She may only be six, but she was taught by the best.

She rolled up the sleeves of her hoody once more, and strutted down the street with her head held high and her rock held out defensively. Brittany didn't like to leave anything dangerous lying around when she left her alone, and so Ellie had been forced to improvise.

What was her big sister on about? There were no zombies here. She allowed herself to relax slightly, and continued walking from block to block, enjoying the sunshine.

After an hour or so, her boldness decreased as she realised she had no plan. Hadn't she passed that car before? The sun had gone behind a cloud, casting dark shadows everywhere. Was that a man standing there in the shadows? Panic rose in her. She was lost, with only a rock to defend herself. A whimper slipped out before she could stop it, and tears began rolling down her cheeks. She attempted to pull herself together, but before she knew it she was sobbing her heart out, slumped on the ground. This was a terrible idea.

"Brittany!" She cried out for her sister. "Brittany, help me!" Her breathing quickened and she clutched the stuffed dog to her chest, rocking back and forth.

Minutes passed and the tears resided enough for her to look around and see that she was not alone.

A figure stood there, watching her silently. She scrambled to her feet.

"H...Hello? I'm lost, can you help me?" She asked quietly. "Please," she added on an afterthought. Brittany always told her to remember her manners.

The woman stood still, cocking her head to one side. Ellie watched her, wary of the stranger. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. A trickle of blood ran down the woman's chin, but she continued to stare at the little girl, unfazed.

Ellie's stomach dropped. This wasn't a person. This was a zombie. She looked exactly like Brittany had described, with her eyes dead and unfeeling and the unnerving groans she made every so often.

The little blonde backed away slowly, crossing her fingers desperately. Another tear ran down her cheek. The creature took a step towards her, and Ellie couldn't help herself. She screamed.

The woman snarled and crouched slightly, ready to spring. Ellie scrunched up her face, bracing herself for death.

A gunshot sounded, and Ellie gasped, her eyes flying open.

The woman was frozen in the middle of the road, metres away from her. Two further shots sounded and she turned, sprinting towards the sound.

Ellie's eyes were wide with shock, but she came to her senses and ran blindly, tears streaming down her face. She wished with all her heart that she had listened to her sister and stayed in the bunker where it was safe. "Brittany!" She wailed, hiccupping.

She took another step, and screamed as the concrete below her feet crumbled, sending her into a pit of rubble she hadn't noticed ahead. A sharp pain shot up her leg, causing everything to go black.

* * *

Brittany looked up the darkening sky, frowning. Clouds were setting in, by the looks of them they were in for heavy rain. Sighing, she turned and began to make her way back, following the chalk trail.

Frustrated tears sprang to her eyes as she realised the rain would wash away the chalk, meaning she had to start over, and she slammed her hand down on the bonnet of a discarded car.

"Damn!" She shouted angrily, reaching up to grasp the heart hanging around her neck. "Santana!" She tried screaming over and over, but she knew in her heart that it was no use. Santana would most likely be turning back now herself. If anything she was just going to attract the attention of the undead.

She moved swiftly through the streets, wanting to get back before the heavens opened. She could feel the few tins she had been given bouncing in her backpack. The scumbags hadn't even given her anything to open them, but luckily she had a small collection of knives hidden under her bed, so they would have to make do.

Ellie would be waiting for her and they could listen to the radio for any update on Santana, and then snuggle up and play games. Her mood lifted as she thought of how much fun they would have, and she bounced along the road, almost forgetting to check her surroundings. Not that she would see anything. It should worry her that she hadn't seen anything all day, but for now she was grateful. It meant she could get home quicker.

Home. The bunker just wasn't home anymore. It was temporary. Her home was with Santana, wherever she is. _Soon,_ she thought to herself, grinning. Soon they would be reunited.

She glanced around her, beginning to recognise where she was. Another ten minutes and she would be back. It had taken a lot less time to return, considering she wasn't checking out every single building on the way for Santana.

It was when the entrance to their little haven came into view that she realised something was wrong. The hatch door was jutting out onto the street slightly, not quite lying flat like it should have if it was locked. She scanned the shop fronts and, seeing no movement, sprinted towards the hatch.

She hauled the door open and leapt inside, disregarding her own safety.

"Ellie?" She cried, her head whipping frantically from side to side.

The bunker was empty. She shook her head. "No, no, no," she kept muttering to herself, searching under the tiny table and in every corner. She sat down, cradling her head in her hands.

Ellie wouldn't just go off. She was a good girl; she always listened to her big sister. Something or someone must have taken her.

_Unless..._ Her eyes widened and she turned, letting out a sob. The little stuffed animal was gone.

In an instant she knew what had happened. Ellie must have gone looking for her.

"No," she whispered in denial, shaking her head defiantly. Ellie will be fine, she'll be back soon. Of course she will.

_But she's only six._

Brittany trembled with fear for her little sister and she returned to the street, jumping as thunder clapped overhead.

"Ellie!" She screamed. She could hear nothing but her voice echoing through empty streets, accompanied by the tiny pattering of raindrops, masking her tears as she sank to the ground.

* * *

**Thank you for reading, I hope you like it. Review with your thoughts! :)  
Thanks to my awesome beta - Totally Unicorn !**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, I'm back at 6****th**** form now so can't update as often! Have a total of 16 chapters planned out for this fic, helped by my amazing 'beta' Totally Unicorn, so there's a lot more to go! I hope you like this chapter, and please review, it means a lot! **

* * *

Darkness was everywhere, creating figures where there were none, allowing not one bit of light to illuminate the world and swallowing everything. Brittany stumbled along blindly, sobbing, tripping over unknown obstacles and making a lot of noise.

"ELLIE!" She screamed constantly, not caring who or what her voice attracted. All that mattered was her little sister.

"Santana!" She tried, hoping she was nearby. She dropped her head in defeat and stopped dead. She listened intently, hearing nothing but the far off shrieks of the creatures of the night.

"Ellie?" She whispered to the darkness. Where was she? She looked upwards, hoping for moonlight to give her some indication as to where she was, but it was nowhere to be seen, hidden behind the mass of clouds. She had been searching for hours now. Day had turned into night and her stomach was protesting angrily. She hadn't eaten anything substantial in days, choosing to give the majority of her meagre rations to Ellie, and it was rapidly taking its toll.

She held her shaking hands out in front of her after tripping yet again, and her hands met concrete, still damp from the last rainfall. She felt around, concluding that it was a building wall, and hoped to God that she would still be alive by morning. Having spent the last year's worth of nights holed up underground, she had no clue as to whether the undead could see at night or not. She knew from hunting that they had no problem being out in the day, so did they sleep or what?

She still clutched her knife in her hands, prepared to fight to the death to get to her little sister.

A crash sounded nearby and she froze, her heart beating wildly. "Ellie?" She whispered.

Her head span, her hands clammy and slick with sweat. Her breathing became shallow and she gasped for air as cackles echoed through the street.

A high pitched screech followed by the rush of wings.

Was that something moving? She backed away as shape after shape appeared through the darkness.

It seemed that there were hundreds of eyes gleaming in the dark, watching her every movement. Hands reached out of the blackness. Her hair stood on end, and shivers ran down her spine. She hit out wildly, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't breathe. Her legs trembled.

She ran, slamming into unknown obstacles causing her to rapidly change direction. She found another wall and sprinted through the night, keeping an arm on the wall to keep herself in a straight line. "Help!" She screamed, "Ellie!"

She could hear nothing but her own beating heart. Were they footsteps she could hear behind her?

Her foot caught on something and she went sprawling onto the floor, landing on something hard. She screamed as faces appeared, mocking and taunting her. She turned over, trying to curl herself into a ball, reaching out for something to hold onto. Her fingers met something long, something smooth and cold and she ran her hand along it, picking it up. It was moderately heavy and roughly half a metre long. She reached along the end of it and screamed, dropping it to the floor. Fingers – human fingers. She felt around the solid object she was sat on and screamed again. It was a body, cold and lifeless. She could feel the defined cheekbones and wetness on its face, and she didn't want to think about the gory state it was most likely in.

"HELP!" She cried out. She flung herself off of the body and rolled onto the street pavement, where she tucked her head in between her knees, sobbing. The darkness was closing in around her like water, suffocating her, drowning her. She tried to fight it, screaming and crying. She couldn't breathe and her ears were ringing, and when she lifted her head up she vomited, gasping for air in between retches.

_What's happening to me?_ She cried out in her thoughts. Her head was spinning and she felt sicker and sicker. She tried coughing to clear her throat, but only brought on another round of vomiting. She reached out tentatively with a trembling hand only to feel the damp hair of the dead body she had landed on, causing her to recoil in horror, and she wiped her arm across her face to find it soaked with sweat. She whimpered in terror, shivering and shaking on the ground.

There was another bang nearby and she shrieked. "Leave me alone!" She screamed hysterically. "I don't want to die!" Her face was starting to ache from the strain of crying, but she could not stop the flood of tears. She began to hyperventilate, and saw spots begin to break up the blackness. Voices echoed in her ears, evil and threatening.

"It's entirely your fault Brittany," they whispered in her head. "Ellie is dead, and it's all your fault."

She shook her head violently in denial, gasping for air in short, shallow breaths, and vomited once more before she succumbed and allowed the darkness to swallow her, slipping into unconsciousness.

* * *

Her eyes opened slowly. At first she thought she had gone blind – the light outside was no different to the darkness of her dreams. Ellie let out a whimper as a sharp pain hit her, and she suddenly remembered what had happened. She had found her way onto a now abandoned highway which had gone over a bridge, and hadn't realised that a huge partition had broken off, leaving a gaping hole in the road. She couldn't remember anything after she fell but pain. She had felt nothing but terrible, blinding pain.

"Britty?" She whispered into the darkness. There was silence all around her. She closed her eyes and opened them again. There was no change, but she knew she was awake. She could feel the breeze on her skin. She reached up with her hand only to cry out in pain as her shoulder throbbed in agony. She cradled it to her chest, trying desperately not to cry, and tried tentatively with the other hand. As far as she could tell her left arm was fine. She managed to grip the hood of her sister's sweatshirt and tug it over her head as though the thin fabric would protect her from harm.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to fall asleep so that her dreams would protect her from the things in the dark. A tear rolled down her cheek. She was afraid of the dark, although she wouldn't let Brittany know that. She had to be a big girl now since their parents weren't there to protect them.

She fumbled around with her good hand, eyes still tightly closed. She felt some wet stuff on her leg, which smelt funny when she lifted it to her face. Her nose scrunched up at the smell. It smelt like when Britty had cut all her knees up after her bike accident when Ellie was four and a half.

Her feet were tangled up below her, but each attempt at moving them just brought more pain and the little girl gave up after letting out a cry of anguish. She tried to flex her toes, hoping to get rid of the pins and needles, and drummed the fingers of her left arm on her leg in an attempt to squash her rising fears. She was a smart girl for a six year old, and she knew that it would do her no good to panic. _Don't cry, Ellie_, she told herself. She reached out with her hand and tried to feel anything about her surroundings, but to her surprise her fingers met soft fur.

She pulled her hand back in alarm, but when nothing bit her slowly reached out once more. She picked up the bundle of fluff. It was surprisingly light, and she brought it to her nose to sniff. Her eyes widened. Her stuffed dog! She clutched it to her tightly, breathing in the distinctive scent of strawberry. Her sister had bought it for her fifth birthday months before they had to leave home, and it still regained the smell. She nuzzled her face into its fur, feeling the memories spring to the surface.

They had been walking back through the mall from the park when Ellie caught sight of the shop window full of scented stuffed animals. She had paused and tugged at Brittany's hand, gazing in wonder at the rainbow of colours. Brittany had squealed in delight, running inside and picking up a sparkling unicorn, but Ellie had scoffed at her. Unicorns were for babies, and they weren't even real! She wanted a dog – a purple dog. Brittany had told her no, telling her she couldn't have it, and Ellie had burst out into tears in the middle of the shop. She still felt ashamed about her display of weakness to this very day, what would Santana have said? Lima Heights children did not cry. Despite her outburst, on her birthday three days later she had been delighted to unwrap her sister's present to find the little purple dog, and she'd taken it everywhere ever since.

She blinked as the memory came to an end, and yawned, feeling drowsy. Where was Brittany? She must be so worried. She tried to stretch her legs again, forgetting she couldn't move them and cried out once more. She attempted to feel along them and gasped as something sharp cut her hand. She reached out a bit more carefully, and felt a rod of something sticking out of her leg. The panic rose in her as she felt round her calf to the other side, feeling the rod there too. How was it on both sides? She took hold of the rod in her tiny fist and shrieked.

It had gone through her leg. She felt sick. She wasn't stupid – something that had gone through her must be bad, very bad. "Britty!" She cried. A scream sounded through her ears, going on and on, and her stomach twisted as she realised it was her own voice.

* * *

Santana froze. There it was again: a high pitched scream, echoing through the streets, making her blood turn cold. She tried to calm her racing heart and listened intently.

"Britty!" She heard faintly.

It couldn't be. Not her out on her own. Please no.

"Ellie?" She shouted. Silence. The wind whistled through the buildings, before she heard the weak reply.

"S...Santana?"

Santana's heart dropped. The little girl's voice sounded so broken.

"Ellie! I'm coming! Keep shouting!" She cried, hoping desperately that she'd reach the child before something dangerous did.

She moved quickly, disregarding her own safety, following the cries.

After passing through the cemetery she had had another encounter with a member of the undead, a crazy looking ginger woman, who she had left with a bullet in her skull before crossing over the river. She had sat on the bridge for a quick snack, scanning either side of the river for any movement, dead or alive. Once she was satisfied that nothing was there she had moved on, scouring the streets. She guessed she had killed about eleven undead that day, and made sure to remember the number in order to record it back at the base. When the rain had started falling and night drew closer she had made the decision to remain searching with the strong flashlight she had acquired, wanting to find her girlfriend. It had made it more difficult to stay alive when she had thunder crashing overhead and rain pelting down around her, but somehow she managed. That is until the moon disappeared behind the dark clouds, forcing her to rely on the thin beam of light created by the black object in her hand. It was only by luck that she still had a pulse, and she definitely didn't want to risk attracting attention by using her gun.

She continued to run through the streets towards Ellie, quickening her pace after hearing screams mixed with the shouting. The beam bounced everywhere, creating a mix of illuminated colours, and she dreaded it landing on a pair of gleaming eyes that meant she would have to fight for her life. The dark made everything so much scarier, and she couldn't imagine how Ellie was feeling, all alone and defenceless. Something had to have made her scream.

The beam of light fell on cars stacked on top of each other, and she paused. Ellie had gone silent.

"Ellie?" She whispered loudly.

"Over here. Is that really you?"

The voice came from just up ahead. Santana scanned the surroundings with her torch, and noticed the big pile of rubble from the highway above.

"Yeah it's me Ells. It's Santana." She shone the torch a bit further over and gasped upon seeing the little girl on top of an upturned car. She reached her side and caressed her face gently, seeing the piercing blue eyes fill with tears. "Hey," she whispered. "Don't cry. Everything's gonna be okay."

"No it's not. I'm stuck," the girl whimpered.

Santana shone the flashlight down her body and gasped in horror at the metal rod sticking out of her tattered leggings. It was covered in blood, and she gulped at the ragged edges. She tried to remain calm for Ellie's sake, but inside she was freaking out.

"Is there anywhere else you are hurt?" She asked gently, placing her hand on her forehead to check her temperature. She was a little hot.

"My right arm hurts. It hurts Santana."

Santana's heart broke as she watched her girlfriend's sister cry. She soothed her carefully, trying not to hurt her further. "Ellie look at me. You're going to be just fine." She pressed a kiss to her hair. "Where's Britt?" She asked, dreading the answer.

"I don't know," Ellie cried. "She went to look for you and told me to stay at home, but I wanted to help so I snuck out, but then I got lost and a creepy woman nearly got me, but then she heard gunshots and ran away, and then I fell down here," she rambled, her voice high pitched and squeaky.

Santana felt relief rush through her that her girlfriend was still alive, but frowned at the news that Brittany was out in the city on her own. "Wait a minute. A woman? What did she look like?"

"She had blood down her chin, and she kept staring at me. She had ginger hair." Ellie's eyes closed.

"Hey, Ellie. Try to stay awake honey. Keep talking to me. Where are your parents?" Santana's heart fluttered, realising that she had unknowingly saved the little girl's life by shooting in the cemetery.

"Britty told me they were dead. I can't remember, one minute they were there and then Britty was driving and they were gone."

Pain flashed across Santana's face. Mr and Mrs Pierce had been like second parents to her, and now they were gone. She wiped Ellie's tears from her cheeks with her thumb and reached into her bag slung across her shoulder, handing her a cereal bar.

"Eat this," she commanded, wanting to distract her as well as keep her awake.

Whilst Ellie tore into the bar like a rabid animal, Santana examined the leg. As far as she could tell the rod wasn't attached to anything, meaning that she could move the girl. This news pleased her, as she was aware that as every second passed they were lucky that they hadn't been attacked yet. Also, the amount of blood surrounding Ellie scared her, especially since she was clearly finding it difficult to stay conscious.

She looked at the little blonde, who had slumped in mid chew.

"Ellie? Ellie!" She shook her shoulder gently, jumping back with her hands raised as Ellie jumped in pain. "I'm sorry!" She whispered more quietly.

Ellie focused her tired eyes on her. "Why can't I sleep? I want to go home." She moaned.

"I know baby but you have to stay awake. Can you do that for me?" Whilst she was talking she strapped up Ellie's leg to reduce the amount the rod moved, and returned the rest of her belongings to the backpack. "I'm going to lift you up now, and it is going to hurt, but I need you to be quiet okay?" She asked.

Ellie nodded determinedly, and gritted her teeth as Santana carefully cradled her in her arms, taking care not to nudge the metal and damage her leg further. She clutched her gun in one hand, knowing she wouldn't be able to use a bat and carry the child. She was worried about how light she was and she could clearly feel her bones. She managed to pick up the flashlight in her teeth and encouraged Ellie to shine it ahead for her, noticing how her eyelids drooped every so often.

"Want to play a game Ellie?" She murmured. Her voice seemed loud in the silent night, and she dropped it to a whisper.

"Sure," Ellie slurred in her arms.

"How about you tell me what you've been doing since I last saw you?"

Santana continued to trek across the city, listening to Ellie's mumbled descriptions and following signs as best she could. She wanted nothing more than to find her girlfriend, but knew she had to get Ellie back to the island and the hospital on it before she lost much more blood. Her brow crinkled as she heard Ellie mention Brittany's work, wondering how these so called employers had let them starve, but decided not to question it, content to let her ramble. The voice died off after a few hours, and she shook her in her arms.

"Ellie!" She hissed, frantically trying to angle the flashlight discarded on Ellie's stomach, illuminating the blood and making it look black. The girl stirred in her arms.

"What?"

"You need to stay awake for me, remember? You promised Auntie Tana."

"Auntie Tana..." She said, almost inaudibly.

"That's right, Auntie Tana. Can you remember what I used to teach you?"

"All...Lima Heights," Ellie muttered.

Santana chuckled. "And what do we do in Lima Heights?"

"Get mad."

Santana grinned and rocked the little girl as she walked. She could see the faint lights of the island in the distance.

Something clattered to their left and she froze. _Crap._ Gently she lay Ellie down on the ground, watching as she grimaced when the movement jolted her leg. She stood over her protectively and shone the light into the shop windows. Eyes gleamed out at her through the darkness and she raised her gun. Two shapes flew out of the window at her and she shot them both down swiftly, crouching and listening for further threat.

Once she was certain that there was no movement she picked up the child once more and began to jog, treading as quietly as possible. Nothing she did could rouse her from her sleep, and Santana began to panic, remembering the guard's warning as she had left the compound that morning.

"_Be back by nightfall. When it gets dark we shoot at anything that moves."_ He had said. She had ignored it, not expecting to have to return so soon, but she was now regretting not making a plan previously.

She reached the end of the long bridge and paused, squinting to see through the dark. She could see the faint light of the guard's station, but not much else. She knew from what she had been told that security lights were in place all down the bridge, so to move closer would most likely result in them being shot. She jiggled Ellie, receiving no response. She had to get to that compound.

She crouched by one of the metal supports, hoping it would shelter Ellie at least if not the two of them in case they were shot at. She clutched the flashlight in her hand and directed it towards the guards. Hesitantly, she flashed it a few times in a complicated pattern, hoping that they would realise it was a human. Undead couldn't use flashlights, right? They were driven by their craze for human flesh; they probably didn't have their human intelligence. Santana prayed that her assumptions were correct as she continued to switch the light on and off.

Far off in the distance, another light flashed.

* * *

It was about 2am when he noticed it - a light flashing up ahead.

The night had been uneventful. Matthew hadn't had to use his gun since midday, when a lone zombie had made its way onto the bridge. He was worried about the girl - Santana he thought her name was. She was brave going to look for her friends, but also foolish in his opinion. If they hadn't made it to safety already then they were most likely dead or somewhere else across America. But he admired her courage, having trekked from Chicago alone only to return to the streets with only a short rest in between. He hoped she was still alive, she reminded him of his little sister.

He had been an inmate on Riker's Island when the outbreak happened, prisoner Matthew Covey, serving a short sentence for minor theft. His mother and sister had been visiting family in England when the virus hit, and he desperately hoped they had remained in England and were alive and well. He had decided to remain on the island unlike his fellow inmates and was one of the originals that set up a secure system against the undead. He had helped aid hundreds of survivors, and hadn't yet killed any of the living by mistake. He hoped he wouldn't have to break this record today.

The light flashed again – twice slowly followed by four or five in rapid succession. He glanced at his watch. David would be coming to switch with him in an hour or so, but this couldn't wait.

Matthew lifted the receiver and pressed a button to connect with the main base.

"Guard Matthew Covey speaking, in need of minor assistance," he spoke clearly into it.

It crackled to life. "Message from Matthew Covey received. Sending assistance."

Matthew set it back down on the side and continued to peer into the darkness. It was like living in an extended family on the island, but when on duty they had to remain professional.

A minute passed and a hand knocked quietly on the window. Matthew drew back the door he had slid shut to keep out the wind, and climbed out of the tiny station.

His colleague stood before him. "What's the issue?" He asked in a gravelly voice.

Matthew pointed out across the bridge. "Lights, I think they are signalling something."

Stephan scowled as he watched the light flashing. "Undead?" He asked.

Matthew shook his head. "I don't think so. They're dead, right? So surely they don't have much intelligence."

Stephan frowned. "I think we should check with base," his eyebrows furrowed and he moved over to the door and picked up the receiver. He explained the situation quickly and returned to the gate. "Boss says we should shoot on sight."

Matthew's mouth tightened. "I'm not shooting. What if that's a survivor out there?" He clenched his fists in anger.

Stephan avoided his gaze.

"Damn it Stephan! Don't ignore me! What if it was someone you knew?" He demanded.

Stephan shrugged. "I guess we could try to reply?"

Matthew nodded and retrieved the flashlight from his post.

* * *

Santana gasped quietly as she saw the light flashing from the other side of the bridge. She changed the pattern and watched as the other repeated it.

Hesitantly she moved forwards step by step, closer and closer to the security lights, flashing the torch every so often to show her movements. Ellie was limp in her arms, and her gun was tucked into the nook between the girl and her stomach, out of reach. She had to hope that she could reach the light before any unwanted attention arrived.

Her legs were shaky and her arms aching from carrying the tiny child across the city. The night was still pitch black, but at least it was no longer raining. She had tried to feed Ellie some water before moving onto the bridge, but was afraid of making her choke. There was a click as the sensors registered her and her surroundings were illuminated with light. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to shield the girl with her body from any bullets, but none came. She looked up to see the light flashing urgently, and took it as a signal to keep going.

She urged her tiring muscles to move, managing to pick up into a slow jog along the stretch of tarmac, now splattered with blood and gore. As she got closer she could see two figures waiting behind the gate, which they opened a crack.

"It's me!" She called. "Don't shoot!"

She heard the rough voice of the guard from that morning calling her name, and she smiled in relief as his face came into view. She slipped through the open gate, hearing it clang shut behind her, and heard their gasp as they took in the kid covered in blood.

"Please," she said frantically. "Help her."

The unfamiliar man gently prised Ellie from her arms, ignoring her weak protests, and disappeared into the darkness.

Her legs gave out and she sank to the ground. Strong hands snaked around her waist as the guard helped her to stand back up.

"Where have they taken her?" She asked, panicking. "Ellie?"

He smiled at her. "To the hospital. Go through the wooden gate and take a sharp left, she'll be in the third building."

Santana nodded her thanks and began to follow his directions. "Wait, Britt!" She muttered, torn. Should she stay with Ellie or find her girlfriend?

The guard noticed her uncertainty. "Go to the girl." He ordered. "I forbid you to go out again tonight."

She nodded her head slowly. "Thanks..."

"Matthew," the man said with a wry smile.

"Matthew," she repeated. "Thanks Matthew."

He raised his eyebrow. "Any time," he replied. "Now go and be with that little girl. I'll come and find you when the sun comes up."

Santana mumbled another thank you and ran for the hospital. She would find Britt tomorrow, but for now she had to make sure Ellie was safe.

* * *

**Hope you liked it! I promise there shall be a Brittana reunion in the next chapter :D**

**Please review!**

**-sbk2304**


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